Where Angels Fear to Tread
by saiyagirl95
Summary: Harry was fairly certain that angels weren't supposed to be whiny, spoiled brats. However, he had also been fairly certain that the scar he bore on his forehead was simply the result of typical childhood stupidity. Evidently, his view of the universe left much to be desired. Fallen Angel!Draco AU.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm rather new to this whole fanfiction business (the writing of, anyway), so reviews are encouraged. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my work, and I hope it is entertaining, at the very least.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all related characters/elements belong to JK Rowling. This is for entertainment purposes only, and I do not want and will not receive profit of any kind.

I

_ "James! James, he's coming!" Lily Potter screamed from the nursery, shielding her son Harry's crib with her body as the room shook, furniture slamming into the ground with such force that it left sizeable dents in the floor. Holding back a panic attack with all of her strength, Lily lunged for the Bible just as it fell from its place on the shelf that her mother had given her when Harry had been born. She tore it open as if searching for a weapon, and in a way she was. If James did not come with Albus in time, she would banish the demon herself, even if it cost her soul._

_ That thought had only just formed when the temperature in the nursery dropped, and Harry's cries, which had been a constant in the background, stopped. There was utter silence as Lily turned, Bible and heart dropping to the ground as she saw the demon they called Voldemort gently tracing her son's face with a clawed finger. _

_ She couldn't breathe. She dared not move, but she had to speak. To beg. To plead. However, the instant she opened her mouth, Voldemort's hand was around her neck, choking her and lifting her up from the ground, draining the life away from her. "Harry…H-harry…" she choked, sure that it would be the last word to ever leave her lips, when suddenly, the door to the nursery slammed open, a blood-soaked James standing in the doorway._

_ "_Lily! Harry!"_ he screamed, launching himself at Voldemort with enough force to send Lily to the floor, gasping for air. Still, he was no match for the demon, and was soon slammed against the wall just beside the door._

_ Turning his attention from James, Voldemort's eyes slid lazily back to the still-silent Harry, who looked back at him unwaveringly, something Voldemort had not seen in most _adult _humans, let alone an infant. "Well, well, little Potter. Now that that little annoyance is taken care of, we can return to the task at hand," Voldemort hissed, stretching his clawed index finger to Harry's forehead, drawing blood. Voldemort breathed in the scent of the blood, the power in it, and was so absorbed in his victory that he didn't even notice the blast of light hurtling towards him until it was too late, and blue flames engulfed his arm. Turning his snakelike face to the doorway with an enraged hiss, he met the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. His hiss turned to a growl, "Albus Dumbledore. Late as always, I see."_

_ Albus took in the truly horrific scene of the nursery with a profound sense of shame. "This ends tonight, Tom," he said, using the name that Voldemort had been sure he had buried._

_ "That is not my name!" Voldemort shrieked, the entire house shaking with the force of his fury. "I _am _Lord Voldemort, and you shall address me as such!"_

_ Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "No, Tom. No, it is time to _finally_ go to sleep." With those words, he pulled out an ancient pocket watch from his inside jacket pocket, opening it and allowing the gentle _tick-tock_ of time to fill the room._

_ For the first time in years, Voldemort felt true fear. As the watch went on, he could feel his power draining away. "No! Get it away from me! I will not fall to you, Albus Dumbledore!" In a last desperate attempt to save himself, he grabbed at Harry, only for the watch to finish its minute count and his life with it._

_ And so Voldemort vanished, with only a broken watch and lightning scar to prove that he had ever existed at all._

16 Years Later:

Harry Potter was bored out of his mind. He honestly saw no reason why he needed to be stuck with his disgustingly fat cousin Dudley for the weekend while their parents pretended not to hate each other's guts. Really, the only reason he hadn't ditched the jerk was because he knew his mother would end up crying again if Petunia started going off about what a terrible job they were doing raising Harry and how she didn't want her precious "Ickle Diddykins" to be exposed to such a rotten child. Besides, James had promised him a new computer if he managed not to sock Dudley this time around.

Harry managed to hold out pretty long, considering the fact that he'd been punched in the stomach twice, pushed down the stairs once, and received an atomic wedgie three times (which, really, he could blame on no one but himself). He even thought he might make it, until late Sunday afternoon came along.

Harry was in the midst of enjoying a rather peaceful few hours _alone _while Dudley was off with a group of questionable-looking teenagers when _she _came along. She was a beautiful Chinese girl about Harry's age, and it appeared that she had recently been crying. Harry tried not to pay her too much attention, as it would clearly be unwelcome. Unfortunately, it appeared that Dudley and his idiots didn't get the hint. They descended from God knows where so quickly that Harry would be inclined to think it was witchcraft if he wasn't a logical human being.

He couldn't make out what Dudley was saying to her from where he was sitting, but judging from the girl's expression, it wasn't anything particularly charming. Dudley, of course, thought he was rather smooth, and Harry could barely hold back his laugh as Dudley began flexing his muscles. It all went downhill from there. The girl, clearly offended by Dudley's advances, threw her head back and tried to walk past, only for Dudley to grab her arm, causing the girl to cry out.

Harry cursed James's blood and Sirius's influence for what this provoked in him. His body seemed to take on a mind of his own as he ran towards his cousin, fury like flames burning up any traces of rationality he possessed. "Let. Her. _Go!" _He commanded upon reaching them, causing Dudley and his gang to stare at him incredulously.

Now, Dudley wasn't normally one for violence against women, and had really grabbed her more in desperation than actual malice, but being told off by his scrawny freak of a cousin really didn't sit well with him, and he figured that ignoring his morals when his pride was threatened was completely reasonable. "And what are _you _going to do if I don't?" he asked defiantly, slightly tightening his grip on the frightened girl.

That was the day that Dudley was reminded of Harry's _mean _right hook. Fortunately for the girl, she was able to escape as Dudley gripped his now-bleeding nose.

_So much for a new computer._ Harry thought miserably as Dudley turned his beady little eyes to him, face a deep violet.

"Oh, you're dead now, Potter!" Dudley all but growled, colliding his fist with Harry's very unfortunate rib cage. Harry attempted (quite pathetically, really) to fight back, but the minute he took his second swing at Dudley, the rest of his gang of idiots joined in, and the most Harry could do was to huddle up in a ball on the ground, shielding his head. It was not his proudest moment.

Harry was beginning to think that they really would kill him at the rate they were going. He felt like a living punching bag, every bone in his body crying out at the weight of the gang's strikes. However, just as his last shred of self-control was about to break, and he was about to scream out against he stars in his eyes, the sky darkened. It was instantaneous. What had been a clear day just touched by sunset quickly turned black, rain pouring down as though God had simply dumped a giant bucket of it over their heads while the angels threw the accompanying lightning.

Harry was immediately abandoned, his attackers cursing and running off to find shelter. The pain they left behind probably would have been enough for Harry to remain curled up where he was, taking his chances with the storm, if it wasn't for the large oak tree nearby being blasted to smithereens by a stray lightning bolt. With renewed energy, Harry jumped to his feet, holding onto his ribs as he ran for the Dursley's house, his progress hampered by his near blindness due to the rain soaking his glasses.

Harry had just cut through the park and was on the side of the road when the sound of breaking branches and a loud _thud _reached his ears. Turning sharply toward the noise as cars zoomed past him, Harry saw the blurred image a slender figure crumpled among the broken branches.

_I-is that a person?_ Harry nearly asked aloud, shocked as to where this absolute loon could have possibly been to end up in such a position. He was even going to leave the idiot there, until he heard the pained groans and was once again given no choice but to once again curse his father and Sirius for his damned hero complex. He ran to the figure, nearly tripping in the mud several times. When he reached it, he…wasn't sure what he saw.

Lying among the branches was, by far, the most beautiful person Harry had ever laid eyes on. Even covered in mud, the boy somehow managed to look regal and elegant. His hair was a pale gold that seemed to shine even against the gold ring around his head, and it reached just past his shoulders, tied loosely with gold thread. He was wearing robes of what would have been pure white, were it not for the aforementioned mud. On his feet were golden sandals. Now, this combination would have been odd enough…were it not for the giant wings sprouting out of his back, which were also gold, much to Harry's bewilderment. What's more, the cursed things seemed to be slowly dissolving, feathers burning (how they managed to burn in the torrential rain was beyond Harry) one by one.

The only thing to snap Harry out of his shock-induced stupor was another pained groan from the winged freak, inciting Harry's Potter blood to action and causing him to kneel down next to the boy. "Hey, are you alright?" _Stupid question, Harry._ He chided himself.

The boy opened his eyes sleepily at the words, and Harry was, in the corner of his mind, a bit disappointed that they weren't also gold. The boy looked Harry up and down, and even with his hazy vision, Harry could tell that his scar was what stopped the boy's eyes. He was used to that. What he was not used to was people, or whatever the hell this boy was, jumping at the mere sight of it, eyes widening a ridiculous degree, shaking like a leaf (of course, Harry reminded himself, that last part may have been from the rain).

"What's wrong?" Harry demanded, reaching out to the boy in concern.

The boy snapped at him, in a voice that was much whinier than Harry had been expecting. "Don't _touch_ me! Oh, God, this can't be happening!" He was looking up at the sky now. "You can't be serious! If this is some kind of sick joke, I swear on all that is holy—"

He didn't get to finish swearing, though, before Harry grabbed his shoulders, stopping him dead. "Listen, mate, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're obviously a raving loon, and unless you want to get struck by lightning or catch pneumonia and die, you'll come with me."

The boy didn't answer at first, too busy staring at Harry's hands on his shoulders with pure, unadulterated horror. When he finally did speak, it consisted of a very ineloquent, "Oh, bollocks."

Harry was about to ask what on Earth this psychopath was talking about, or else forcefully drag him to a safe location, when he found out the hard way: by being struck by lightning.

Harry really hated his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who read the first chapter! This chapter is where it starts to get into the plot a bit more, so hopefully you enjoy it. Reviews are always welcome!

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing and am receiving no profit.

II

Harry awoke with a groan, flinching as he was forced to shield his eyes from the harsh white light burning into his retinas. Shifting uncomfortably, he realized he was in a hospital bed, and panicked. He looked around wildly, searching for someone he knew, only to catch the attention of a very proper-looking nurse in her mid-forties. She immediately approached him, speaking in a kind voice with a clear undercurrent of worry. "Good morning, Mr. Potter. I am Nurse Pomfrey. Are you comfortable?"

"Good morning," Harry replied, under the distinct impression that, despite the kindness she displayed, Nurse Pomfrey was the kind of woman who would smack him over the head if he were rude. "Do you know where my parents are, ma'am? I'm not entirely sure why I'm here."

Nurse Pomfrey seemed slightly concerned by this, but didn't miss a beat. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter are speaking with the doctor. You see, your parents found you by the side of the road after that awful storm two days ago, and you've been asleep since then. Do you remember anything about that?"

Harry instantly felt a shiver go down his back. Images burst into the forefront of his mind. He could see the boy with the golden wings, his cold silver eyes staring at Harry in horror, and the lightning descending upon them. Shuddering, he shook the images from his thoughts. Who in their right mind would believe that? He certainly didn't _feel _as if he'd been struck by lightning anymore. "A little. Wait, did you say I've been asleep for _two days?"_

"Yes," the nurse nodded. "It was truly a miracle. When your parents brought you in, there wasn't a scratch on you! It looked as if you'd just opted to take a nap in the rain, but we couldn't wake you up for the life of us. The doctor was concerned as to why you wouldn't wake up, but we ran several tests and could find nothing wrong with you! Do you feel strange at all? Any feelings of dizziness or disorientation?"

Harry stared at her. Not a scratch? Surely that wasn't possible, with the beating Dudley had given him. Still, his body didn't feel uncomfortable in the slightest, and his brain seemed to be working properly. "No, ma'am. I feel fine."

Nurse Pomfrey smiled. "A miracle, truly. You must have quite the guardian angel."

Harry twitched slightly at the word angel, but opened his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by a snort from the corner of the room. Turning in the direction of the noise, Harry saw the very same boy he'd found during the storm leaning nonchalantly against the hospital wall. The boy was deathly pale, with dark circles under his silver eyes and half of each of his wings gone. Still, he practically bled arrogance, smirking and raising a golden eyebrow at Harry's shocked expression.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Nurse Pomfrey asked, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

_She has to be joking._ Harry thought. She was directly facing the boy! Harry looked between them, wondering if it was some sort of sick prank before the boy spoke.

"She can't see me, you moron," he confirmed in a snide voice, and Harry seriously began to wonder if his brain was working as well as he thought it was. He tried desperately to remember whether Dudley had hit him in the head or not.

"Mr. Potter?" Nurse Pomfrey cut into his thoughts, concern replacing her earlier confusion.

Harry turned a deep shade of crimson. Telling the truth would certainly land him in loony bin, and he couldn't afford that. "I'm fine, just a little tired," he assured her.

She seemed skeptical, but let it go as James and Lily Potter rushed into the room, and Harry's attention was consumed by the fending off his mother's hugs and his father's overenthusiastic pats on the back.

"Are you alright, Darling? How are you feeling? Do you want something to eat?" Lily asked, and Harry confirmed that he was, in fact, famished.

"That little prat's lucky he's still a minor, or I would have beaten him to a pulp. I settled for giving his _Vermin_ of a father a black eye, though. I doubt we'll be invited to Christmas dinner," James assured him, grinning like a madman, and Harry's mood improved greatly despite the fact that the hospital wanted to keep him overnight to make sure he was truly good to go.

He could even ignore angel boy throughout his visit from Sirius and Remus, who had only just come back from a vacation in Tokyo. The boy spent most of the time simply standing in his little corner, watching the visits with a bored expression on his face, and was fairly silent.

Of course, this all went down the drain when Harry's best friends, Ron and Hermione, came to check on him.

Ron was all red hair and flailing limbs as he grabbed Harry by the shoulders and checked him (quite unnecessarily) for any injuries. "What the bloody hell happened to you? Was it your git of a cousin, Dungley or whatever? Did he drug you? Oh my God, he did, didn't he?"

"No, Ron, he didn't drug me," though that did sound like a good explanation for the cackling angel in the room. "He did beat me up, though."

"I can have the car ready in ten minutes," Ron said, his voice dangerously low and his face deadly serious. "We're busting you out of this joint to egg the Dungleys."

Hermione was exasperated. "No, we're _not. _That's vandalism, Ronald, and Harry's above that. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"No, no it's not."

Hermione gave him a glare that would put a librarian to shame.

"I mean, of course, Hermione! Really, Ron, what _were _you thinking?"

"That's what I thought," Hermione nodded, satisfied with that answer.

Ron looked injured. "Well, excuse me for caring about my best friend's safety!"

"That doesn't require breaking the law, Ron," Hermione argued.

"You're just to much of a goody two-shoes. What if the git tries something again?"

Hermione threw her hands up, "Yes, because destroying his property is going to make him _less _likely to beat Harry up."

"Well, if you know so much, what else are we supposed to do?"

Harry chuckled, running his hand through his perpetually messy black hair as he watched his friends in their usual bickering. His good mood was quickly cut short by the sudden closeness of the angel, though. The boy had moved without Harry even noticing, and he was now leaning against Harry's hospital bed, watching Ron and Hermione as if they were two particularly odd creatures he was watching on Animal Planet.

Then he started talking. "What the _hell _are they _doing_? Is this some elaborate human courting ritual? Are they shagging? They clearly want to."

Harry had the sudden urge to cover his ears and possibly gouge his eyes out. He did _not _want to picture his friends in any of the positions Angel Boy had begun describing in _completely unnecessary _detail. Whoever said angels were innocent was clearly off his rocker. Harry was just beginning to block him out.

"—Should they really be wasting time antagonizing each other, though? It's not like they have very many mating options. Beaver Teeth over there is hardly Helen of Troy, and Raggedy Andy looks like all his clothes were fished from a dump—"

"Shut up, you arrogant little piece of—"

"_What?"_ Ron and Hermione exclaimed at once, staring at Harry as if he'd lost his mind, and Harry flushed scarlet.

Angel Boy looked torn between horror at being told off and pride at managing to force Harry into acknowledging his presence in front of others. Harry decided that "hate" was really the only word that could accurately describe Harry's feelings towards the tosser. Coughing, Harry tried to repair the damage done. "Sorry, I'm a little tired. Not really thinking clearly at the moment."

Ron looked skeptical. "Mate, you slept for _two days."_

"I know, I know, but I have a really bad headache. You guys should go on home."

"But, Harry, didn't you want me to help you with the chemistry packet? Spring break's over in three days," Hermione protested.

Harry winced at the mere mention of the class from hell, but held his ground. "It's fine. We can meet up tomorrow once I get out of here. I can't focus anyway."

"If you're sure…"

"I am. Really, guys, don't worry about it. I'm fine," Harry lied. They left after that with assurances that they'd be at his house tomorrow at three o'clock sharp, and Harry turned to Angel Boy with pure malice in his eyes. "Ok, that's _it!_ Who are you? No, _what _are you? Because you're obviously not an angel. Actually, more importantly, why are you even _here?"_

Angel Boy rolled his eyes and replied, dripping sarcasm. "Which one of those would you like me to answer first, o' wise human?"

"Answer in the order I asked them, o' annoying prat," Harry answered, gritting his teeth.

Angel Boy smirked. "Draco. Angel. The last one is your fault."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How is it _my _fault?"

"You _touched _me," Draco drawled, in such a way that it sounded much more inappropriate than it actually was.

Harry's cheeks turned red. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Clearly Harry wouldn't be satisfied with half answers, and he was beginning to lose patience. "Look, I'm just as unhappy about this as you are. The only reason I was even on this damned planet was because God's pissed at me. I—"

"You pissed off _God?_ Why does that not surprise me?"

Draco glared. "Do you want an explanation or not?"

Harry shut up immediately and nodded for Draco to continue.

"Look, I didn't do anything that bad, if you ask me. Apparently, I've been showing signs of, and I quote, 'indulgence, malice, and attitude problems unbefitting of the Angelic race', so they decided to kick me out until I learn to behave."

Harry couldn't help butting in. "I don't see what that has to do with me. So you suck at being an angel, so what? Go take anger management classes or something."

"Look, it's all my dad's fau—you know what, you don't need to know. All you need to worry about is the fact that the Big Man upstairs decided that the best way to test me was to send me down to earth, _take away my wings_," at that, Draco, grabbed a handful of slowly burning feathers from his back, "and make me be the Guardian Angel of the first human to lay hands on me."

Harry paled, Draco's horror when he had grabbed his shoulders suddenly making perfect sense. "You mean, me."

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," Draco rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time.

"So, what? That lightning strike was just to seal the deal?" When Draco didn't correct him, Harry's jaw dropped. "You _have got _to be kidding me!"

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I wish. You think I _want_ to be stuck with you until I help you complete your destiny?"

"And what _destiny _is that?"

"It's classified information until a certain future event that I am not allowed to disclose," Draco said, eerily calm.

Harry threw his arms up, exasperated. "How are you supposed to help me if you can't tell me what you're helping me with?"

"I said I couldn't tell you _yet._ The balance of Fate is delicate, you idiot. If humans knew everything that was supposed to happen to them, you fools would be in perpetual chaos."

"So you're saying I just have to deal with it."

"Yes."

"And no one else will be able to see you, so you can basically do whatever you want to me?" Harry asked, horrified at the thought.

Draco shrugged. "As long as I still have my wings."

"And how," Harry wondered aloud, "do you expect me to explain _that _to my family and friends?"

"Lie," Draco replied, not missing a beat.

"And _that _is why they kicked you out of Heaven. What kind of angel tells people to lie?" Harry asked incredulously.

"A practical one."

Author's note: Thank you for reading this chapter. Please review and tell me what you think of the story so far, good or bad! It's been a while since I read the books, so if anyone seems too ooc, please tell me. I plan to update at least every other week, though I will try to update weekly.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long. My responsibilities all piled up at once, and I ended up nixing several different approaches for this chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for reading and being so patient!

Disclaimer: Again, everything belongs to JK Rowling. Which means it doesn't belong to me, and I am making no profit whatsoever.

III

Harry wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he woke up the next morning in the hospital, but he certainly hadn't been optimistic enough to believe that Draco would be gone. He was pleasantly surprised. James and Lily began the tedious task of filling out the paperwork required to check Harry out, and Harry spent the time texting Ron, as he knew it was Hermione's daily Must-Not-Be-Interrupted, two-hour reading time. Really, the girl had structure and discipline down to an art form. Or science. Harry was fairly certain that she'd give him a good slap over the head if he suggested that she pursued anything so inconsistent and trivial as fine arts, and his lips curled into a fond smile at the thought.

After about 45 minutes of sports-related conversation with Ron (a time period which was mostly spent on Harry's side by deciphering his best friend's complete disregard for the rules of the English language), the paperwork was finished, and they began the drive home.

Harry stared blankly out the window, not really taking in any of the scenery, while Lily and James spoke in the front seats, there words seeming to meld together, for all Harry was paying attention to them. The minute they stepped onto the lawn in front of their home in Godric's Hollow, Harry knew something was off. Hadn't it been noon just a few moments ago? How could it possibly be so dark?

"Harry, come on, it's time for dinner!" Lily called from the doorway, and Harry shook his head to clear the uneasiness, walking to catch up with his parents. The heavy wooden door slammed shut with a finality that made Harry shudder, and he reached for the light switch on instinct, only to stop dead at his mother's bloodcurdling scream.

Harry's head snapped to the left, and his blood froze at what he saw. The entire upper floor of his home was filled with the black, scaled body of a hideous beast with twelve snake-like heads, at least twenty of its glowing, yellow eyes glaring directly at Harry as it peered out from the top of the stairs. As for the other four eyes, they were focused on Lily's face as their necks squeezed the life from her body. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. All he could do was watch, as if he was the one caught in the beast's grip. _Wake up, Harry._ He told himself. _This isn't possible._

"Lily!" James cried, and Harry was snapped out of his stupor. The elder Potter ran for the beast, hand held out to reach for his wife. For a moment, Harry thought that he would reach her, that everything would work out, but the beast struck so fast that if Harry had blinked, he would have missed it. A long black neck snapped from his resting place, jaw unhinged to show two twelve-inch long fangs that a split second later sank into James Potter's flesh, shaking him to-and-fro, blood spattering against the walls and over Harry's face, nearly blinding him. Then, without care, it threw James to the ground, his bones making a sickening cracking noise, soon to be followed by the last sound Lily would ever make: a soft, pitiful sob before she was dropped to the ground next to her husband like a forgotten doll.

"_Mum, Dad!"_ Harry screamed, wanting the entire world to hear him, wanting his anguish to wake the dead, and he ran, ran past the beast without a second's thought for his safety. He dropped to his knees next to his parents, shaking them, screaming, crying.

The beast waited, hissing, and rage consumed Harry from the inside out. His body seemed to take on a mind of its own, and he launched himself at the beast, only to be slapped back against the wall. Refusing to let the pain slow him down, Harry ran to the kitchen and grabbed the largest butcher knife he could find. He turned around just as one of the snakes' heads was about to strike, and chopped it off. The entire beast hissed in agony, and for a moment, Harry thought that he had won.

Then two more heads took the place of the original, and as much as he tried, Harry could do nothing to stop them each from tearing into his flesh, lifting him from the ground, and allowing its fellows to do the same. Harry could feel venom seeping into his veins, feel his veins burning, feel his world come crashing down, and he screamed.

Then there was light. Something pure cut through the darkness and the blood, and suddenly all Harry could see was gold, before he sat up straight in the hospital bed, only for Draco to put a hand on his chest to push him back down. The blood was still fading from his sight, and Harry realized that he was still in the hospital, looking into the tired silver eyes of the fallen angel. He was still in excruciating pain, however, and when he looked down, he saw he was covered in blood and snake bites. "Wha—Draco, argh!" Harry protested as Draco moved a pale, slender hand to his side, right where the first bite had been.

"Hush, Potter," Draco said in a tone that was surprisingly soothing. "I can heal you faster if you stay calm." With that, Draco's hand began to glow, and Harry could see the blood lost from that wound disappearing as the bite closed, not leaving so much as a scar.

Harry watched Draco heal with awe, concern tainting his amazement when he saw tightness in the angel's muscles and the faster rate at which the feathers were disappearing. That is, until he came to his senses and all he could think about were answers.

"Why haven't any nurses come to check in on this mess?" he demanded first.

Draco sighed, and the bags under his eyes seemed disturbingly prominent. "I've blocked off the room. No one can see or hear into it."

"Oh, great. Then I can scream all I want then. What the _hell _was that all about? I wake up like it's a dream, and then find actual injuries on my body? I know you did something!" Harry responded, his heart beating rapidly.

"It was a test. I had to show you what you could be faced with as you approach your destiny to see if you were worthy," Draco rubbed at his temple as he finished with Harry's last wound.

Harry's hands immediately went for Draco's robes, pulling him closer and staring directly into his eyes, his own green like glowing as brightly as flame. "You made me watch my parents be killed for a stupid _test?_ How _dare _you, you arrogant sod!"

Draco growled, eyes flashing, and he slapped Harry's hands away. "It wasn't _my _idea, moron. I'm just doing as I'm told. And if you so much as think of laying hands on me again, I'll cut them off, you—you _insect,"_ he snarled, and Harry was taken aback by the sheer violence of the words coming from someone who, not a moment ago, had been showing him care.

Falling back against the pillow, Harry tried again, doing all he could to stay calm. "But, _why?_ Are you saying that…that monsters exist? That my friends in family are in danger?"

"Unfortunately, yes. That storm was the beginning. You've been touched by the supernatural, now, and there's no going back. You will become a target. My job is to teach you to fight back," Draco explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at Harry firmly, resigned though he was.

Harry laughed bitterly. "You're joking. If was _slaughtered_ in a dream, how do you expect me to be able to handle a real monster? I'm not 'worthy' as you put it."

"The test wasn't to defeat it. The test was to see if you had the courage and passion to fight it even if it cost your own life. And you passed with flying colors." Draco grinned. "Not bad for a moron."

Harry's eyes widened considerably. "You mean…I'm actually going to be fighting monsters?"

"Yes. And demons. Don't forget demons."

"Oh, God!" Harry exclaimed, paling considerably.

"Well, it was His idea," Draco shrugged.

Author's Note: Alright, I know it's a bit shorter than usual due to the craziness of the past few weeks, but please review, even if it's just to yell at me for my complete lack of punctuality! I'll do my best to correct that flaw in the future. Also, if you wonderful readers out there wouldn't mind, I have a question: What are some of your favorite songs that have to do with angels (one of mine is "Anthem of the Angels")? I'm trying to compile a playlist for this story, as music is excellent inspiration. Thank you so much for reading and being patient! I appreciate it more than you could ever know!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Yay, I learned punctuality this week! Thanks to everyone who's read and/or reviewed. Here, have the longest chapter I've written for this story, so far! Things happen. Also, special thanks to Nightstar113 for her epic critiquing SKILLZ. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. It all belongs to JK Rowling. Please stop torturing me with this fact. T_T

IV

Harry didn't sleep at all for the rest of the night, instead opting to stare at the ceiling, doing his level best to bleach the nightmare images from his mind. Draco had left around three o'clock AM, claiming he needed to make "preparations" for Harry's training. Understandably, he was rather exhausted by the time his parents took him home that morning.

"Harry, sweetie, you seem troubled. Is everything all right?" Lily asked as James drove them, and Harry shook himself out of his exhaustion-induced haze to answer her.

"I'm fine, Mum, really," Harry responded. "The hospital bed was just complete rubbish, is all. Couldn't sleep."

Lily didn't look convinced. "You almost broke my ribs when you hugged me earlier, and you expect me to believe it was because you're tired?"

"Uh…I…missed you?" Harry responded, wincing.

James shook his head. "Oh, God. Don't tell me I'm raising a mama's boy."

Lily slapped her husband on the arm (despite the fact that he was driving and thus responsible for their lives). "Honestly, James!" she scolded him, proceeding to give him a long, drawn-out speech on how there was nothing wrong with a boy missing his mother. Harry was simply relieved to have her attention on something besides him.

Mister and Missus Potter were still squabbling by the time they reached their home, and thus didn't notice Harry's mad dash into the house. They did, however, notice his obsessive search of every inch of the building. "Son, _what _are you looking for?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Harry really needed to start planning his cover stories. "My periodic table? Ron and Hermione are coming over to work on chemistry in a bit."

"Did you check your room?" Lily asked, her eyes narrowing in that way mothers' do when they know their children are lying.

Harry jumped to hug her melodramatically, "Brilliant! I didn't even think to look there. What would I do without you, Mum? I'll go look right now, okay?" And with that, he ran up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door behind him, leaving his parents staring after him in confusion.

Lily turned to her husband with a look that clearly asked if it was a male thing, to which he simply shrugged and let out an annoyed, "Teenagers," before going to the kitchen to start making dinner.

Meanwhile, Harry leaned against the door of his room, about to collapse right there, until he heard the flutter of a page being turned and nearly jumped out of his skin before turning a deep scarlet and sincerely wishing the monster from his angel-induced nightmare would appear and swallow him whole.

Sitting on Harry's small bed, flipping through one of his well-hidden (or so he had thought) dirty magazines was a rather bored-looking Draco. Mortified, Harry slumped to the floor, unable to tear his eyes away, as if he was watching a train wreck.

Draco finally seemed to notice his presence, as he lifted his eyes long enough to say, with a quirked eyebrow, "You do _know_ that lust is a sin, don't you?" Harry was certain his heart stopped when Draco flipped the page, his eyebrows shooting up into his hair and responded to the sight with, "_That's _kinky."

Unable to take anymore, Harry shot up from his spot on the floor and grabbed for it, only for Draco to pull an escape move that would make a ninja proud, leaving Harry to plant face first onto the bed as Draco smirked at him, waving the magazine above his head mockingly. "Give it _back," _Harry growled, making sure to keep his voice low so his parents wouldn't hear him.

"It's your own fault for hiding it in such an obvious place. Honestly, at least put _some _effort into it if you plan on hiding your vice," Draco responded, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he looked at the cover again.

"It was hidden in a secret compartment in the bottom of my bookshelf _that I built in there myself!_" Harry protested, indignant.

Draco rolled his eyes before throwing the magazine so that it slid under the bookshelf and plopping himself onto the chair in front of Harry's desk. "Like I said: obvious."

"Oh, shut up! You shouldn't have been snooping around my room anyway," Harry glared at the angel, thinking he looked much too relaxed and must therefore be planning something horrible.

Draco sighed. "Maybe if you didn't take so long running around your house looking for monsters like a paranoid idiot, I wouldn't have had to resort to 'snooping' to keep myself entertained."

Harry blushed a bit; because _of course_ the arse knew everything. "And whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Draco replied without missing a beat. "If you'd come up to your room first, I could have told you that I'd set up protective barriers around your house this morning, and you wouldn't have been stuck lying, rather pathetically, I might add, to your parents in order to keep yourself from looking completely insane."

Harry buried his face in a pillow. "I hate you."

"You're welcome. Now hurry up and get dressed in something you can move in," the angel ordered, and Harry lifted his head to look at him incredulously.

"What? Why?"

Draco rolled his eyes skyward, as if asking for patience. "So you can train, moron. Do you _want _to be torn to shreds the first time you face a demon?"

Harry shivered as Draco's words conjured memories of his nightmares. "But…Ron and Hermione are going to be here in," he checked the clock on his nightstand. "Half an hour! You were there when we decided to meet. Can't it wait?"

"No," Draco's tone was firm. "If you want to survive your first lesson, you have to cancel with your little friends. We have a deadline, and I'd rather not have my charge die so early. It looks bad."

"But—" Harry began to protest, only to be cut off by Draco.

"Stop complaining, Potter. I highly doubt some stupid little study group is more important than your _life."_

Harry grimaced, realizing he really had no choice, and grabbed his cell phone to text Hermione and Ron that something had come up. Ignoring Draco's self-satisfied nod, he walked into his closet to change, and took the steps two at a time to get to the front door. Lily, of course, stopped him. "Where are you going, Harry? I thought you said Ron and Hermione were coming over."

"Change of plans. We're meeting at Ron's. His brother Percy's visiting from University, and he's going to help us out," Harry lied with relative ease, having actually planned it this time. He ignored to guilt stabbing at his stomach.

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Then why don't you have any of your school supplies?"

"Uh…it turns out I left it all at Hermione's when I was over there last week. She's bringing it," Harry explained, starting to sweat.

"Alright," Lily said after what felt like ages to Harry, though she looked troubled. "Have fun."

"Great. Love you, Mum," Harry responded, relieved, and kissed her on the cheek before bolting out the door.

The minute they were out of sight of the house, Draco spoke. "That was truly pathetic, Potter. I've seen four-year-old _angels _who were more convincing."

"She believed it, didn't she?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling sick. He'd lied to his parents before, but never about anything quite so drastic, if only because Hermione was very firm about following the rules and keeping out of trouble.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hardly. She didn't believe a word. I'm surprised the woman didn't lock you in your room until you told her the truth."

Harry groaned. "Great. Just…great." Suddenly seeing where Draco was going, he turned to the angel with a questioning look. "You're not going to train me in the _park,_ are you? I'll look insane!"

Draco rolled his eyes, a habit that Harry was really starting to hate. "Relax, you'll be fine. No one will see you."

"Good," Harry nodded, relaxing slightly. He could handle training, he was sure. He was an athlete, the young star of his football team. Surely this couldn't be much different. He gained confidence with each step, planning on doing well and putting the arrogant prat in his place. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Draco, while walking with a graceful stride and his head held high, seemed to be strained, if the way his fists were clenched was anything to go by. The circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever, and feathers were falling off and burning from his wings, which seemed a much paler gold than that first day. Harry wondered then how it felt, to fall from Heaven, and almost pitied the angel. He chased that thought away quickly enough, though. Draco had brought this upon himself and would no doubt scoff at Harry's pity, anyway.

"What are you staring at?" Draco asked, suddenly, and Harry jumped. He hadn't realized he had been staring. "And don't lie. You're rubbish at it; I'd just be insulted."

Blushing (he was doing a lot of that lately, he noticed with irritation), he bit his lip before asking what he was sure would not go over well. "I was staring at you," he admitted, and he quickly clarified when Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Not for anything creepy! I was just wondering. Does it…hurt? I mean, your wings are _burning,_ and you look like you haven't slept in days!"

"Did you just ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?" Draco drawled, covering his initial wince with an amused smirk.

"_What?_ No! Well, yes, but not like _that!_ How do you even _know_ about that line?" Harry asked, horrified.

Draco shrugged. "I _have _been on Earth before, you know. I just never found it particularly appealing. Now, hurry up; we're here."

Harry saw that they were in an area of the park that he'd never been in and that they were surrounded by trees. "So, how are we gonna do this?" he asked and almost got a nasty bump on the head when Draco threw something at him. He fumbled a bit, but managed to catch it. Eyes widening, he saw that it was a blade in a leather sheath. When he pulled it out of its sheath, he was surprised at its obvious quality. It was covered in writing in a language Harry could not recognize, which lit up as Harry lifted the sword for a better look.

"It's a baselard," Draco explained. "I blessed it, gave it some of my power. It should protect you, if you have any talent at all."

"Wow," Harry said, swinging the blade, feeling the weight of it in his hands. "It's incredible. The name is rubbish, though." He had never been a sword guy, had never been interested. But he couldn't exactly lie and say that he didn't get a rush from the power emanating from this "baselard", as Draco called it. "So, what do you want me to do to train—" Harry dropped the dagger abruptly as Draco's hand suddenly covered his own. Fortunately, no one was injured. "What are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice much squeakier than he cared to admit.

Draco was unimpressed. "You were holding it completely wrong. It was painful to watch," the angel answered, bending down to pick up the baselard, holding it straight out. "Now watch closely. _This _is how it's meant to be held." Harry watched, and when he took the blade back, he tried not to make a fool of himself again.

Of course, life just wouldn't go his way, and Draco needed to physically correct him several times on subjects including, but not limited to: his grip, his stance, his speed, his hesitation, his lack of balance, and his pathetic stabbing skills. They trained for a at least five hours before Draco was even mildly satisfied with Harry's technique, and Harry immediately collapsed onto the grass, sweating and breathing heavily, when Draco announced that the lesson was over. "Thank _God_ that's over_._ You're a slave driver!"

"Hurry up. You have five minutes before I'm taking you for your first test," Draco said, bored, and Harry immediately jumped up.

"Test? What test? You said it was over!" He protested indignantly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I said the _lesson_ was over, moron. You still have a test, and that's what the deadline was for, in case you forgot that argument."

Harry groaned. "Kill me."

"Trust me, I _wish_ that was an option."

"Fine," Harry sighed, standing up. "Let's just get this over with so I can go home." With that, he followed Draco to the old part of town, watching the sunset as they walked, making even the abandoned insane asylum, The Greyback Lunatic Asylum, look beautiful, bathed in red and gold. Then Harry realized they were walking toward it. He'd never moved faster in his life than when he moved to grab one of Draco's pale arms, only to quickly flinch back as he remembered the blonde's vicious threats from the night before.

"What's your problem, Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry stared at Draco as if he was insane. "You can't actually be thinking of going in there! No one's been in there in the last twenty years!"

"Well, then you'll be the first," Draco replied, unaffected.

Harry blanched. "What? Why?"

"Fine. Don't go. But when demons come to kill you and everyone you care about, don't you dare ask me for help."

"But…" Harry gulped. He'd always feared the abandoned asylum as a child. Hell, he didn't know anyone who didn't. Even Hermione, for all of her rationality, refused to walk by it alone, had bought into the ghost stories. And that was what gave him courage, ironically enough. The thought of Hermione, and with her, Ron, his parents, and their families. Draco was staring at him, expectantly. He had shown Harry what would happen if he didn't become strong. He had to grow, for them. If that meant facing the monsters under his bed, then so be it. "Fine. Let's go."

Draco seemed almost surprised, and opened his mouth slightly as if to comment, but opted to shake his head instead, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Humans. Well, come on, then." The angel jumped into a nearby tree that stood next to the electric fence surrounding the asylum, one of its branches crossing the fence like a bridge.

_Or the plank on a pirate's ship, _Harry thought, before trying to climb up the tree after Draco. However, Draco was rather impatient with Harry's poor attempts and decided to simply grab Harry by the wrist and pull him up before_ jumping _from the branch into the asylum's territory. Harry thought he was lucky not to have broken both of his ankles and was about to complain, only to find that Draco was already walking toward the entrance. Grumbling, Harry followed him, hesitating at the threshold, but propelling himself forward with the image of his mother's face, of her in his nightmare, dying, and of her troubled expression before he left the house.

The asylum was just as creepy on the inside as Harry had always thought it was on the outside. It reeked of death, and _all _of the windows were either broken or boarded up. Harry was certain it was at least twenty degrees colder in the asylum than out, and he shivered, disturbed when he breathed out and saw his breath. The cold fingers of fear began to curl around his heart once more, and he ran to catch up with his Guardian Angel. "Hey, Draco! Slow down!" Harry called, and Draco stopped, turned around with a grave expression on his face, and disappeared. Harry's eyes widened, and he began to call the angel's name, "Dra—" before he was thrown back into the doors of the entrance by a force that seemed to come from nowhere.

Harry cried out and looked up to see his attacker, a tall, thin man in scrubs, transparent, with wild, white eyes, and hair as wild as a forest fire. The man smiled, revealing broken, rotting teeth, and raised his hand to reveal a syringe with a needle the size of Harry's forearm.

Heart trying to tear out of his chest, Harry gripped the door handle and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. He was trapped, and, in his terror he screamed one word: "Draco!"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it. As I was asked in the reviews, I figure I'll answer here: I love shipping, so I know it is frustrating when your ship isn't guaranteed. However...I can't reveal the endgame ships for this fic because of suspense reasons. You'll thank me later (or hate me forever)! I can reveal James/Lily and Sirius/Remus, though, if it's any consolation. Question: What are your favorite HP ships? Please review and tell me what you thought of the chapter, positive or not! DFTBA!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry this is ridiculously late, guys. I had finals and this chapter was extremely painful to write. I hope it's at least semi-enjoyable?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to JK Rowling.

V

Harry's scream went unanswered, and he barely had time to admonish himself for his naïveté before there was an ice cold hand around his neck, the sensation as if a fog was choking him. "Let go!" Harry commanded, kicking and pushing at the ghostly man, only for his strikes to pass through him with no effect. The man laughed, and Harry shouted at the injustice of it all.

"What a foolish boy," the man cackled. "Coming into _my _domain and thinking he'd live." With that, the man lifted the syringe, aiming it at Harry's eye, bloody lips curling into a grin.

Harry's breath quickened, and his heart pounded at his rib cage for escape. He closed his eyes on instinct, his entire body shaking. He fumbled for the dagger at his hip, but his fingers had become useless and were unable to grip his only defense.

_This is it, _he thought, not bothering to call for help when he knew it was useless. _I'm going to die._

The man chuckled, and Harry could feel it, could feel the air being displaced as the needle approached him. It touched his eyelid, and he braced himself, vowing that somehow, someway, he would make Draco pay for this.

A shriek sliced through the asylum then, and Harry's eyes shot open when he realized it was not his own. Harry and the syringe were tossed to the ground almost immediately, the man forgetting them in favor of clutching desperately at his ears. Harry did the same, shutting one eye while leaving the other open to stare at the chaos the entrance hallway had become.

As the shriek echoed through the hallway, the heavy metal doors on either side burst open, as if propelled by some powerful force, and papers, desks, beds flew to slam into the doorframes or against walls. The man screamed along with the shriek, "Silence!" before his bulging eyes took on a look of fierce determination, and narrowed on Harry. "_You._ This is your fault!" he bellowed, and took one hand away from his ears to reach for Harry, who wasn't about to fall under his control again.

Harry grabbed the dagger and held it out in front of him as he scrambled to his feet, fighting against the dreadful noise and the power it seemed to have against him, the way it weighed down on him like a physical beast. "Stay back!" he shouted, a warning as furniture flew passed them.

The man didn't take Harry seriously and lunged for him, bony, bloodstained hands greedily reaching for his neck. With adrenaline pumping through his veins like a living thing, Harry's mind was wiped of everything save the ghost-feeling of Draco guiding him, and he met the man the second he was within arm's length with a stab directly to the heart. The man let out a croak of surprise and stared at the now glowing baselard embedded in his chest before lifting his bulging eyes to Harry's own.

Neither of them moved, even as furniture continued to fly passed them and the shriek made their ears bleed. Harry felt trapped as he watched, green eyes impossibly wide, as the baselard's light spread out to engulf the man's form until light was all that was left. Harry abruptly pulled the blade back and stumbled to get away as the light finally faded from sight.

The shriek stopped, and Harry fell to the floor, staring at the spot where the man had been just moments before. "I…I just killed someone," Harry choked out. Somehow, knowing that the man had already been dead did nothing to ease the black coil of guilt constricting around his heart like an anaconda, making his breathing harsh and labored.

"You're welcome," came a quiet voice from behind Harry, and the hair on his arms stood straight up as he jumped to his feet and turned toward the voice with a grace that he wished Draco had been there to see (and no, he was _not _going to question the reasoning for that, no matter what the Hermione in his head wanted). He tensed when he saw what appeared to be another ghost, if the transparency was anything to go by. This one was a girl with large glasses that magnified her eyes, making her look rather insect-like. She appeared to be a few years younger than Harry. Harry clenched the baselard at his side, trembling slightly. "What do you want?" he demanded, relieved that his voice didn't give his fear away.

"Oh, you're so rude!" the girl stomped her foot. "I just saved your life!"

"What?" Harry asked, blinking and wondering if ghosts were supposed to be this whiny. Maybe all supernatural creatures were brats. It would certainly explain Draco.

She pouted and explained in long, drawn-out syllables. "I _screamed._ It hurt, you know, to do it that long, but I did it for you, so you owe me." She fluttered her eyelashes, and Harry felt his stomach drop. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what she'd ask for as payment.

" ? So, what? You have some weird ghost powers?"

She stomped her foot again, "It's not _weird! _You're awful! Horrible! I should have let you die!"

Harry lifted his hands in a placating gesture, fearful that she would start screaming again. "I'm sorry, but why'd you help me in the first place?" he asked, suspicion evident in his tone.

She grinned, and Harry was really beginning to wonder if he should just stab her while he had the chance. "_You _came with the pretty Angel. _I _want to see him again, so I'm going to help you."

"You must be joking," Harry replied, barely suppressing the urge to face palm. "You're doing this because you have a _crush?"_

"Oh, don't be stupid!" she snapped. "I'm _tired._ I've been dead for fifty years, and I want out! Those horrible men pumped me up with so many drugs that I was dead before I even got to have my fifteenth birthday! The _Angel _can take me to Heaven."

Harry rubbed his neck, a bit embarrassed. Hermione would have slapped him if she'd been there, given him a lecture about feminism. He supposed he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Still, he had a feeling that if he was stuck with this girl for very long, he'd go insane. "Sorry. I'm Harry. And you are?" He finally stuck out his hand, deciding that he needed an ally more than he needed sanity, anyway.

She took his hand graciously, and answered Harry with another flutter of her eyelashes. He was really starting to worry about these mood swings. "My name is Myrtle."

"Great, Myrtle. So…how exactly am I supposed to get out of here?"

"Oh, I don't know. The Angel blocked off all the exits when he came by earlier," Myrtle told him, leaning forward as if she was telling him some life-altering secret.

Harry's heart sank, though he really should have expected it. "Alright, then _how were you planning on helping me?"_

"Well, the Angel was being _very _suspicious when he was here. There were all sorts of strange noises coming from the top floor. I think that's where he wants you to go."

"What is this, a video game?" Harry replied, rubbing his forehead. "Fine. Come along then. Show me the way."

Myrtle didn't move, instead standing akimbo with a scowl on her face.

"What?" Harry asked.

Myrtle narrowed her eyes. "You're _so rude._"

Harry arched an eyebrow before it hit him. "_Oh._ Um, please?"

"That's better," she replied, and turned to walk down the hallway. Harry had a bit more trouble getting around the furniture strewn across the floor, though, and ended up stubbing his toes much more often than he cared to admit.

He managed to fight through this, though, and was even planning on going along with whatever nonsense Draco had left for him on the top floor, until he saw the stairs and his jaw dropped. "You must be joking! That's a death trap!" The steps were rotting, holes in every few steps, and the railing was half missing.

"Oh, stop complaining," Myrtle admonished him.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "If I die here, I swear I'll torture you for the rest of my death."

"Ooh, scary," Myrtle rolled her eyes, "I'm sure you're _much _more frightening than the rest of the violent psychopaths in this place."

Harry blushed and muttered under his breath about "stupid ghosts" before grabbing hold of the bit of railing he could reach and maneuvered himself up the stairs. Each flight of stairs he conquered brought a new set of rooms to behold, and a heavier stink of death. The higher they got, the more this affected Harry, and he found himself with a massive headache. His vision blurred, and he was only barely able to make out the various human-shaped figures shying away from his presence and seeming to fold into themselves.

Myrtle fell back a bit as they got higher and Harry's headache only got worse. Confused, Harry turned back to her. "What's wrong?"

The ghost girl was hugging herself and looking around with panicked eyes. "Something's wrong. No one's tried to stop us. I haven't even seen half the people that usually haunt the upper floors!"

"Isn't that a good thing?" Harry asked, rubbing at his forehead and feeling at his scar, which seemed to be the center of the pain.

Myrtle shook her head. "It's _wrong!"_

Harry narrowed his eyes, irritable with his pain. "If you want to stay behind, go ahead, I'm sure I can find my way from here." With that, he turned from her and continued his attempts at climbing the stairs without falling to his death. He was on his own for about five minutes before Myrtle came flying to catch up with him and walked by his side. Eventually, they reached the top of the very last flight of steps, which opened up onto a short hallway leading to a heavy metal door.

Harry gulped. There was an ominous aura coming from the other side of that door, and an electric shock seemed to resonate through his head at the mere sight of it. Beside him, Myrtle was visibly shaking, and when Harry chanced a glance at his own hand resting on the wall next to him, he realized he was no different. Clenching his other hand into a fist, he used his right hand to grab onto the baselard. It took on its angelic glow, and Harry found some comfort. "Do you want to stay out here?" he asked Myrtle with an embarrassing stutter.

Myrtle shook her head. She was tiny, but in that moment, she looked like a giant. "No, I can do this."

With a silent prayer, Harry opened the door. Immediately, he was sucked into the darkness, landing on the cold, hard ground with such force that it left his head spinning as he struck it. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Myrtle banging against the door, screaming for entrance, and he wondered why she couldn't just phase through the door. The only light in the room came from the baselard, and Harry lifted it up to see what he had to face.

He wished he hadn't.

As the baselard bathed the room in its heavenly light, Harry's eyes were filled with the sight of the creature with a thousand faces. It was huge, taking up at least half of the large room they were in. Its skin was like that of a toad, and its jaws reminded Harry of a shark's. The faces, human faces were sewn into its side like trophies, and they all screamed as if they were dying. Harry couldn't breathe, and just the sight of it made his scar burn with renewed vigor.

The beast roared with such force that Harry flew backwards, colliding painfully with the wall. He was sure he heard something crack. By some miracle, however, he managed to hold onto the baselard, and it endowed him with a confidence that he was sure would come back to bite him, but that his adrenaline-fueled mind took as a signal for the "fight" response. Harry was back on his feet in an instant, running toward the beast and managing to give it the equivalent of a paper cut before being swatted away like a fly.

He decided that perhaps the direct approach wasn't best, and began to stalk the sides of the room looking for an opening while ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He was so not ready for this. Really. Who gives someone one lesson and then pits them against a giant monster? He decided that his motivation for staying alive would be the fact that it would allow him to eventually punch Draco in the face.

With determination, he launched himself directly into the path of the monster, which swatted at him again. This time, however, he rolled to the side just in time for the beast's clawed foot to hit the ground. Harry immediately flipped back over and stabbed the baselard through the creature's foot, trapping it. It screamed, and Harry had to hold onto the hilt with all of his strength in order to keep from flying.

"_You insolent child,"_ the monster hissed with a thousand voices, and a chill ran down Harry's spine. "_I will _end _you!"_ And suddenly, another clawed foot was rushing directly toward Harry's head, and he screamed.

Author's Note: Again, please forgive me for being late, and feel free to yell at me in the reviews. I hope you at least found some entertainment in it. Also, don't worry. I am not giving up on this story. I just hit a bump in the road.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Woo! Chapter 6! This is the farthest I've ever gotten in a story! So, thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited! I love you all! Please review and tell me what you think!

PS: Big thanks to Nightstar113 for her epic editing SKILLZ! You guys should go check out her work (it's awesome).

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing. It is all the property of JK Rowling.

VI

Harry's eyes widened, and he froze as the monster's clawed foot came closer and closer to ending his life. He was sure it was over when the door burst open with another harsh shriek. The monster stopped immediately to cover its head with its feet and roar as the windows (previously boarded up to banish any light) were blown out and moonlight seeped into the room, giving Harry a horrifyingly clear vision of the Monster with a Thousand Faces. While the monster was distracted by the noise, Myrtle flew into the room, pausing her shriek when she reached Harry and pulling him through one of the newly opened windows.

Harry was not ashamed to say that he screamed. Fortunately for him, though, Myrtle's grip on him slowed the fall so that his eventual landing was mildly painful rather than horribly traumatizing. Several hours had passed since Harry had first entered the asylum with Draco, and Harry shivered in the moonlight. "What the hell was that?" he asked, finally turning to a wide-eyed Myrtle as his heart tried to break out of his rib cage and run far, far away.

"I don't _know!"_ she squeaked. "You're lucky I managed to break in, though! It was _terrible!_" she shivered.

"I'm getting out of here," Harry said, standing and turning for the fence.

He didn't get very far before Myrtle was in front of him, though. "You _can't._ You can't leave me stuck here with that monster, and I can't leave the asylum grounds!"

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but was stopped by an angry roar that he was sure must have echoed through the entire city, followed abruptly by the sound of a wall being torn apart as the monster jumped out of the building and landed directly behind them. Harry barely managed to stop himself from flying to the ground at the force of the monster's landing. Turning around, Harry's eyes widened. The beast was clearly furious, baring its fangs and towering over them. With horror, he saw that the baselard was still lodged in its foot, which was bleeding black blood.

It swatted at them with another clawed foot, and Harry dropped to the ground to avoid it, pulling Myrtle down with him. The beast roared in frustration, and Harry used the five seconds they had before the next strike to grab Myrtle's hand and take advantage of his athleticism to put a semi-decent distance between them and the monster. He bolted for the fence, Myrtle becoming harder and harder to hold onto the closer they got to it. "Harry, _stop!"_ she cried, and Harry turned to find that Myrtle's body seemed to be slowly disappearing.

Cursing, he turned back toward the asylum with the monster hot on their trail. He knew they didn't stand a chance without the baselard. _I'm going to regret this. _With that thought at the forefront of his mind, he let go of Myrtle's hand and turned to run _directly toward _the monster.

_"Harry!"_ Myrtle called after him. He ignored her, and the when he was close enough that the monster was able to strike at him again, he jumped to grab for the baselard, which resulted in him hanging onto the monster's leg for dear life as he tried to pull the baselard out of its toad-like skin (a task that was much more difficult than he originally anticipated). The monster growled and pinned Harry to the ground with the same foot that Harry was trying to pull the baselard from, and Harry cried out as he felt bones crack. He was left staring into the monsters cold, dark eyes as fear coiled in his gut.

But the monster didn't move. It was watching him intently, and slowly, its fanged mouth curled into a demented smirk. Harry immediately renewed his efforts to escape the monster's grasp, to no avail. The monster pushed him harder into the ground, and Harry screamed in agony. "_You have the _scar_,"_ the monster hissed, chuckling. It was then that Harry realized that his position on the ground had caused his hair to fall from his forehead, clearly making his scar visible.

_But why does that matter?_ He thought, worried by the beast's amusement. He'd had that scar for as long as he could remember, and there had never been anything out of the ordinary about it. _Until today._ He realized, remembering how the pain in his scar had appeared and increased in intensity the closer he and Myrtle had gotten to beast's lair.

The monster was full on laughing now, and the faces on his side joined in. _"The scar! The scar! Oh, my Lord Voldemort will be most pleased with this. The rewards he'll give me!"_

At that name, Harry's heart went cold. Something about it brought forth memories just under the surface of his mind, half-remembered nightmares and the feel of _something _carving into his head.

A glint entered the monster's eyes. _"I'm taking you to Hell, boy."_

"What?" Harry cried out, and he pushed and kicked at the monster's foot. _If I can just get my hands free!_

The monster chuckled again and lifted Harry from the ground with little effort. Turning, the beast slashed at the ground, leaving a hole in the ground. With horror, Harry saw flames licking up the sides of the hole and heard pain filled screams coming from the bottom of it. "Let me _go!"_ Harry screamed in protest. The monster only held on tighter. "_Dammit!"_

"Leave him alone!"

Harry's eyes widened at the sight of Myrtle punching and kicking at the monster with all the force she could muster. He was terrified for her safety, but he could have kissed her for the distraction she provided. With the monster busy swatting at her flitting form, he was able to at least pull his arms from its grasp and grab the baselard. Like Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, he was able to free the baselard from the confines of the beast's flesh. The monster's roar of pain shook the earth, and its eyes filled with fury. It instantly wrapped a foot around Myrtle, making the ghost shriek in shock.

It narrowed its eyes at her. _"You have damned yourself, child."_

Harry could see Myrtle shaking and trying not to cry, and it spurred him into action. He stabbed and slashed at the beast's ankle. It growled in pain but concerned itself primarily with approaching the hole that led to Hell.

Myrtle took one look into the hole and began crying. "No! Let go! _Please!"_

At that last word the monster jumped, and Harry cut off its foot. By some miracle, he managed to stab the baselard into the side of the hole, keeping him from falling to his death. He didn't get even a moment of relief before Myrtle's voice reached him. "_Harry!"_

Looking toward where her voice was coming from, he briefly saw her face disappear into the flames with the monster. "_Myrtle!"_ He reached for her without even thinking and was abruptly grabbed by the wrist and pulled back to the surface. He ended up landing on top of a slender form before rolling off of it from the sheer force used to pull him up. Sitting up quickly despite the pain in his ribs, he saw Draco struggling through a coughing fit. The hole was gone.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. Despite his anger at what had just occurred and the pain he was in, he couldn't help but be concerned when he saw blood dripping from Draco's mouth.

Draco laughed bitterly and wiped his mouth. "Obviously not." With that, he stood up with some difficulty and turned to Harry with silver eyes shining with fury. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

That was too much for Harry, and he was to his feet in an instant, injuries be damned. "I should be asking _you _that! What the hell was that thing? Were you trying to kill me?"

"When I left, it was a grunt of a demon. You should have been able to defeat it without a problem. I leave for a few hours and come back to a Hell Gate! You must have done something!"

"I didn't _do _anything!" Harry was furious. "And that _grunt _pulled an innocent girl into Hell!"

Draco's eyes widened, and he turned his back to Harry, running a hand through his pale gold hair. "I was afraid of that."

"What is going on?" Harry asked, worried about anything that could cause an Angel fear.

Draco took a deep breath before turning back to Harry. "I can't tell you that just yet."

Harry bristled. "If this has something to do with my 'destiny'…"

"It has _everything _to do with your destiny," Draco snapped before Harry could finish.

"Myrtle…"

Draco looked away, "There's nothing I can do for her. Not in my current state."

Harry suddenly felt very cold. _All she wanted was to go to Heaven, and now she's in Hell._ He covered his face with his hands in frustration, falling to a sitting position on the floor. "Dammit, dammit, _dammit!"_

A hand was on his chest a second later. Draco began to heal him, focusing intently on Harry's injuries. Harry winced as his bones repaired themselves. "You'll have to get used to this," the Angel said, and Harry wasn't sure if he meant losing people or being healed. "I can't do much. You'll probably be in pain for a few days."

Harry watched him with distant eyes, trying to get Myrtle's screams out of his mind. Draco finished the healing several minutes later, and much to Harry's surprise, offered a hand to help Harry up. Harry accepted it despite the fact that Draco looked much weaker than he himself felt.

They exited the asylum grounds much as they had entered it, and as they landed on the other side of the fence, Harry remembered something. "Draco…"

"Yes?" Draco asked, voice tired.

"Who's Voldemort?"

The Angel froze. "Where did you hear that name?"

"The demon," Harry answered. "He kept going on about my scar and rewards he'd get for dragging me to Hell."

"Don't worry about it," Draco bit out, walking ahead.

"How am I supposed to _not _worry about it? He was talking about me specifically!"

Draco sighed. "I can't tell you, all right? Please, just drop it."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he thought about pressing Draco for information. The only thing that stopped him was the thought that perhaps he didn't want to know after all. The name had sparked a reaction in him, one that was far from pleasant, and he wasn't sure that he was ready to know the reason for that.

By the time they returned to Harry's house, it was almost midnight. Harry supposed that time flies when you're fighting for your life. His parents were already asleep, and he collapsed onto his bed the moment he reached his room. Draco opted to sit on the window sill and watch stars.

That night, Harry dreamed of crying ghosts and destroyed nurseries, a watch ticking ominously somewhere in the distance.

Author's Note: I hope you guys enjoyed (and yes, I know this is a bit of a short chapter, but it just felt right). Please review and tell me what you think! Next chapter should be a bit more fun and a bit less heavy (though I make no promises)!


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Hey guys! This is a bit early because I was really in Writing Mode today, and it's also my longest chapter so far. Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story, and shoutout to Nightstar113 for her editing! Enjoy and don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing.

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VII

Harry woke in a cold sweat, fire dancing in his eyes. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and when he was finally able to steady it and his breathing, he found Draco staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Harry asked, not overly fond of the Angel's expression.

Draco sighed. "That's your third nightmare in three days. Do you want to explain?"

"Yeah, I'm really going to have that conversation with _you."_

Draco rolled his eyes and dropped it, much to Harry's relief. He really didn't want to discuss his nightmares with the snarky prat. Draco would probably just make fun of him for not being over the demon or Myrtle yet.

Turning to check his cell phone, Harry groaned. It was five in the morning, and he had school in an hour and a half. He was not looking forward to the interrogation he was sure to get from Ron and Hermione. He hadn't spoken to them since he canceled their study session. Draco had made sure of that. He'd dragged Harry out of bed the last two days to train for hours on end. With the baselard gone after being lost when Draco closed the literal Hellhole, they had focused on hand to hand combat, leaving Harry covered in bruises. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Draco enjoyed sparring him a little _too _much.

Sighing and pulling on his glasses, Harry trudged to the bathroom for a shower. The water left his bruises aching, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Draco refused to heal them, seeing them as trivial. Harry supposed he should have been thankful that Draco aimed his strikes at areas that could be easily covered by clothing. He didn't even want to _think_ about how his mother would react to them.

By the time he came out of the shower and dressed in his uniform, he had half an hour left before school started. He made his way downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. James had already left for work, but Lily always left after Harry, so she was in the kitchen making breakfast. "Good morning, sweetie. Are you hungry?"

"Morning, Mum. I'll just take some toast. Ron and Hermione are waiting for me," Harry said, sighing as he received his twentieth text message from Hermione since he'd been in the shower. He knew he'd neglected her and Ron, and he really should have expected this reaction. He was actually surprised they hadn't knocked down his door and demanded to know what he'd been up to the past few days.

Lily seemed disappointed and looked at him skeptically for a few moments before shaking her head and turning back to the cooking. Harry clenched his fist, grabbed his toast, and left for school, throwing a, "Bye, Mum," over his shoulder. He wished she would just come out and say that she thought he was a liar. As far as Harry was concerned, the looks were far worse.

"Well, you're certainly charming."

"Stuff it, Draco," Harry snapped, turning to glare at the Angel who'd popped up beside him as he'd been walking. "It's your fault. And stop following me."

Harry could _feel _Draco roll his eyes, and wanted to punch the arrogant pretty boy in the face. "You know I can't do that. Besides, I've never been to a human school. It should be interesting."

Harry suppressed the urge to walk into traffic.

They reached the school about five minutes later, and Harry went to the library immediately, not wanting Hermione to scold him about punctuality. He spotted his friends immediately, thanks to Ron's height and hair color, and took a deep breath before pulling up a chair at their table and preparing for an earful. Draco, the sadist that he was, leaned against a nearby bookshelf with that insufferable smirk on his face, clearly waiting for a show.

The moment Harry sat down, Hermione started in on him. "Harry James Potter, just _what _do you think you've been doing these past few days? First you cancel out study group, and then you ignore us? Explain!"

Harry cringed at her tone, shrinking away from her. He turned to Ron, hoping for an ally, but the redhead just shrugged and lifted his hands up as if to say that Harry was on his own with this one. "I'm sorry. I don't have an excuse. I've just been busy."

"Busy? What were you so busy with that you couldn't talk to us about it?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"Uh…" Harry could feel a headache starting up. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay? It's complicated." He couldn't even begin to think of an explanation that would satisfy them.

They frowned simultaneously, and Harry feared that they wouldn't let it drop, but Hermione sighed in resignation. "Fine, Harry. But you know that you can tell us anything, right?"

"Yeah, mate. You can trust us," Ron added, watching Harry with concern in his eyes.

"Yeah, I know," Harry sighed. "Look, I need stop by my locker, I'll see you both in class." With that, he was gone, leaving Ron and Hermione alone at the table.

Hermione immediately turned to Ron. "He's hiding something from us. Did you see the way he was shifting in his seat every few minutes?"

Ron nodded. "He looked like he was in pain."

"I'm worried, Ron. He's never acted like this before. He looked completely exhausted, not to mention annoyed," Hermione continued, biting her lip.

"Look, I'll try to talk to him again in PE, okay?"

Hermione nodded. "I just hope he's not in any serious trouble."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Harry was throwing his books into his locker and trying very hard to ignore Draco.

"That had to be the most _boring _confrontation I've ever seen. There wasn't even one fist fight!"

Harry gently hit his head against the locker. "Ron and Hermione are very understanding."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and about as suspicious as your mother. They're worried sick about you, you know. You could at least _try _to act normal."

"I _am _trying."

"Then you need acting lessons," Draco replied, shrugging. Harry turned from him and began the walk to Chemistry class. He often wondered what horrible thing he'd done in a past life to deserve having to go to Snape's class first thing in the morning. He knew he was going to get detention for not finishing the packet they'd been given over break, and he couldn't even ask Hermione to copy her answers because he didn't want her to start asking questions again. His life was quickly becoming more complicated than he could handle.

Harry took his seat next to Ron about five seconds before the bell rang, after which Mr. Snape immediately slammed the door shut. "Pass up your packets, class. Now."

Harry grumbled, and he and Ron shared a look. That was Snape. No, "Good morning, class," just straight down to business. Draco leaned forward, pushing Harry forward slightly due to the extra wait. Harry could _hear _him smirk. "Oh, I like him."

_Of course you do._ Harry thought bitterly. Snape was just Draco's type.

The minute Snape had collected the packets, he set the class to silent reading of the next chapter in the book, followed by answering the practice problems at the end of each section. Harry furrowed his brow as he read. Not having done the packet, the chapter looked like pure gibberish to him. He decided that he would simply make up answers that sounded right. _It's not like my grade in this class could possibly be any worse._

"Wow. You're rubbish at this. Can't you do _anything _right?" Draco said over Harry's shoulder, and Harry stiffened, holding his pencil with a bit too much force. He didn't know what it was about Draco that got him so angry so quickly, but he knew he couldn't let it get to him. Especially in Snape's class. He heard a sigh from behind him. "This is so _boring."_

"Mr. Potter, would you care to explain why your packet is completely blank except for the first page?"

_Dammit._ Harry thought at the same moment that Draco said, "That's better." Harry opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut off by Snape.

"I will not tolerate laziness, Mr. Potter. Regardless of how important you seem to think you are, you are required to complete the same assignments as every other student, and you will do so in detention tonight."

"But, sir, I have football practice tonight," Harry protested, trying to keep his temper in check as Draco chuckled behind him.

"That is not my concern," Snape said, turning back to his grading. Harry nearly broke his pencil, and Ron and Hermione gave him pitying looks.

Draco was having far too much fun at Harry's expense. "No, I _really _like him. You should have seen your _face."_

_ I hate you so much._ Harry thought, using every ounce of self-control he possessed not to turn around and punch Draco in the face. It was the Angel's fault he was in this mess in the first place, after all. He knew exactly what would happen after school, too. Snape would call his parents, saying he got detention, again, and his mother would give him a lecture while his father threatened to go over to the school and beat Snape to a pulp. He was not in the mood for that scenario again.

Snape started teaching about half an hour later, having finished grading the packets. Harry tried to at least pay some attention, if only because he didn't want his punishment to get any worse. Draco, of course, whined throughout the entire lesson.

"I thought this would at least be interesting. Honestly, Potter. Why are you humans so boring?"

"Would you please shut up?" Harry finally snapped, not able to take anymore of Draco's blabber.

Everyone turned to stare at him with wide eyes, and Harry turned a bright scarlet while Draco smirked. If he'd managed to get this much of a reaction from Harry so quickly, he was sure the rest of the day would be great fun.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at something over Harry's shoulder.

Harry was spared answering by the bell ringing to end the class, allowing him to escape with the rest of the students. He was quickly stopped by Ron and Hermione, however. "What the bloody hell was that?" Ron asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You know _exactly _what we're talking about. What is going on with you, Harry?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," Harry tried, and walked away from them as quickly as possible.

They were almost to McGonagall's mathematics class when Draco spoke again. "That chemistry teacher of yours is rather _unusual."_

Harry turned to glare at him, looking around quickly to make sure no one was listening to him. "If you think I want to talk to you right now, you're off your rocker."

Draco rolled his eyes _again _(a habit that Harry was finding more and more obnoxious each time) but took the hint and dropped it. Luckily, he was quiet throughout McGonagall's class. Harry couldn't afford another detention, and while he hated Snape, he simply couldn't stand the thought of getting on McGonagall's bad side.

Thankfully, after McGonagall's class, he had PE and would be spared from thinking for a while. Ron, of course, cornered him as soon as they got in the locker room and tried to start a conversation.

"Look, mate. Hermione's losing it, she's so worried. "You're acting weird, okay? Can't you tell us anything?"

Harry turned his back to Ron and began changing into his gym clothes. "Ron, it's really nothing to worry-"

"Where'd you get those bruises?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"_Idiot,"_ Draco sighed from his place leaning against the lockers as Harry's eyes also widened in horror. He'd completely forgotten he still had bruises from training with Draco.

Harry quickly pulled on his t-shirt to cover the bruises, but the damage had already been done. Several of their classmates were staring, now. "Uh…I tripped?" Harry lied dumbly.

In the background, he heard Draco face palm.

"Like hell you tripped!" Ron was flailing now, clearly worked up. "I swear I saw a foot mark!"

Harry valiantly resisted the urge to turn and glare at Draco. The Angel really didn't hold back enough. "I'm fine. Really," Harry assured him, locking his locker and heading out of the building, where they'd be having PE with Hagrid.

"What? Harry, come back here!" Ron demanded, chasing after him, face as red as his hair.

Harry ignored him, and Ron continued to give Harry concerned looks as Hagrid gave them instructions. They were to split into teams and play football. Harry was rather pleased to hear this. He needed to blow off some steam. He noticed that the girls, including Ron's sister Ginny, were doing the same on the other side of the field, instructed by Mrs. Hooch.

Harry became much less stressed the more he played, and was playing rather well until he noticed Draco watching him. He'd expected Draco to taunt him or give him judging looks the entire game, but what he saw was quite different. Draco seemed…impressed and was watching Harry with approval, smiling slightly. Harry didn't realize just how distracted he was by this sight until an overzealous Blaise Zabini, who had been attempting to steal the ball, knocked him to the ground. He landed painfully on his bruises, and his classmates soon surrounded him.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked. "You completely spaced out for a second."

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Draco laughing.

"Give 'im some space!" a booming voice commanded, and Harry's classmates moved out of the way as Hagrid loomed over Harry to make sure he didn't need medical attention. "Do yeh need ter go ter the nurse, Harry?" he asked, holding his hand out to help Harry up.

Harry shook his head and got to his feet, face red. "No, I'm fine. I just got distracted."

Hagrid looked concerned, and Ron was giving Harry a look that clearly said he expected a detailed explanation later. Harry never got distracted when he was playing football, no matter what was going on around him. Harry opened his mouth to reassure them, but was interrupted by a shout from the other side of the field.

"You little _whore!_"

Everyone turned to see what was going on, and Harry was relieved to have the attention off of him. Two girls from Mrs. Hooch's class were facing each other. A blonde with an athletic build was screaming at Ginny. Harry feared for her life.

"_What_ did you just call me?" Ginny demanded, shock clear on her features.

The girl didn't seem to realize the danger she was in, and answered. "I _called you_ a whore!"

Ginny lunged for the other girl, but was quickly grabbed by two other girls that Harry recognized from Ginny's football team. Harry sighed in relief. If Ginny had her way, the blonde would be on the floor with a broken nose right now, and Ginny would be expelled for fighting.

The girl smirked though, and walked away from Ginny as everyone else on the field looked at her as though she were crazy. By that time, class was over and everyone went to go change. Ron didn't confront Harry about the bruises, as he was far more concerned with checking on Ginny. Harry was thankful for this, and went with him.

The minute Ginny walked out of the girl's locker room, Ron stopped her. "What the bloody hell was that all about, Gin?"

Ginny was obviously still fuming. "Hell if I know. Cassandra's lost her marbles. We were having a perfectly civil game when she started screaming at me for _no reason._ The bint is lucky I didn't break her nose. Hell, I will if she shows her face at football practice today." With that, Ginny stormed away, making a path through the students like Moses parting the Red Sea.

"Well, that was odd," Draco drawled.

Harry elected to ignore him, and instead headed to his next class. Ron had left him at the same time Ginny had, and Harry found that awfully suspicious. Said suspicions were confirmed when he reached his English class and found Ron speaking with Remus—er, Mr. Lupin, at his desk. When he walked in, they turned to face him simultaneously before Mr. Lupin waved Ron to his seat. Harry took his seat and wasn't sure his day could get any worse. As well as being his English teacher, Remus Lupin was one of his father's closest friends. He was also Harry's godfather's boyfriend. This, of course, meant that Ron's big mouth was going to make Harry have a very awkward conversation at some point during the class, and he was struck by the powerful impulse to knock Ron's desk over.

Mr. Lupin's classes were always the most interesting, and everyone was in a fantastic mood when he decided to start the first day back by watching a movie over the novel they'd finished before break had started. Well, everyone except Harry, who knew that this was a perfect excuse for Remus to separate him from the rest of the class and have a conversation. Sure enough,

"Harry, could I speak with you out in the hall, please?"

Silently cursing, Harry did as he was told, Draco following closely behind him. Once they were out in the hallway, which was devoid of any other students or teachers, Harry prepared himself to lie to one of the most perceptive people he'd ever met.

Remus looked at him with kind, tired eyes. "Harry, Ron has brought it to my attention that you have been exhibiting…troubling behavior for the last few days."

"You know Ron," Harry shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. "He's just overreacting."

Remus sighed. "If it was just Ron, I wouldn't have pulled you out of class, Harry. Your mother has been expressing concern as well. She says you've been secretive, and now Ron's telling me that you're covered in bruises. They're worried about you, Harry, and frankly, so am I. You weren't behaving this way before that storm."

Harry tensed. Remus was dangerously close to the heart of the matter, and even Draco looked impressed. Unable to look Remus in the eyes, Harry chose to look at his shoes instead. "What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm always here to talk if you need it, but if this behavior continues, I'm afraid I'll have to tell your parents and Sirius about the bruises."

Harry snapped to attention at that. He'd never be able to leave the house again, and he certainly couldn't tell any of them the truth. "Remus, please, you _can't!"_

"Why not? Harry, if you're in some sort of trouble, I can help you, but you need to _talk to me_. I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

Harry didn't know what to do, and was tempted to just tell Remus _everything._ He couldn't, though. Remus would think he was insane and would probably send him back to the hospital.

Someone screamed, and Harry's internal debate was cut short. The scream was coming from a nearby bathroom, and soon teachers and students were running to see what had happened. Draco had disappeared, and Ron had run past Harry, shouting Ginny's name.

Remus turned away from Harry in order to calm down the rest of the class and stop them from running to investigate, and Harry used his distraction to follow the sound of the scream. He found a huge crowd of students surrounding the girls' bathroom as teachers tried to make them disperse and return to class. Harry pushed through the crowd, and froze.

Cassandra, the blonde girl from earlier, was laying against the wall, eyes wide open and unseeing as a pool of blood gathered around her, centered around her head. Several feet from her, Ginny Weasley sat with her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide and filled with fear. Then Harry noticed Draco leaning against the wall next to Cassandra. The Angel jerked his head to the side, signaling for Harry to meet him outside. Harry's heart sank. This was no human murder.

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Please review and tell me what you think, as reviews make my day and inspire me to write more.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hola! I'm back with chapter 8, and I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed! Also, thank you to Nightstar113 and BassKleff for giving me feedback as I was writing it! The murder investigation storyline should last for a few more chapters, and it's where the story really starts, so make sure to tell me what you think in the reviews! Make sure to check the Author's Note at the end of the chapter, as I have a question for y'all.**

**Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Harry Potter. That honor belongs to JK Rowling, so please stop rubbing it in. Don't sue, please, as I am broke.**

VIII

Harry pushed his way out of the crowd and ran out of the building, ignoring Ron as the redhead called his name. Ron would find out soon enough, and while Harry wished he could be there to help his friend in a situation that would clearly get very messy very fast, he knew that it was impossible. He ended up in the back of the building and found Draco waiting for him, leaning against a wall, as he was wont to do.

Harry felt very ill as he tried to get the image of the dead girl out of his mind. _First Myrtle, and now this…_He thought, wondering if he was some sort of Death magnet. He was having trouble seeing straight, and ended up leaning against the wall next to Draco, rubbing at his scar, which had started throbbing with his headache the minute he'd seen Cassandra laying dead in the bathroom.

"There's a demon in the school," Draco said as he watched Harry intently.

Harry didn't look at him, but barked out a bitter laugh. "Of course there is. So, what? I have to fight it, right? I have to fight a monster that killed a teenage girl without hesitation, or…what? Everyone I love will die?"

Draco sighed. "That is how these things work, generally."

"So, what? Did you plant this one, too? Is this another _test?_" Harry spat the last word like a curse.

Draco stared at him with wide silver eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harry continued, green eyes shining like flame. "That's where the last demon came from, right? The one that took Myrtle to Hell?"

"You think I _planned _this?" Draco asked, indignation rolling off of him in waves. "What happened at the Asylum was out of my control, Potter!"

Harry lost control, then, and grabbed Draco by the front of his robes, slamming him against the wall. "Really? That's a bit hard to believe when you're here for less than a day, and suddenly there's a dead girl in the bathroom!"

"Watch your mouth, Potter," Draco warned, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Or what? You'll beat me up? I've had enough of that these past few days, thanks." The words were barely out of Harry's mouth before he landed roughly on the concrete with a furious Angel looming over him.

Draco seemed to glow as he glared down at Harry. "You ungrateful little whelp! I waste all of my energy trying to train you to defend yourself, and you accuse me of murder? Did you ever stop to think _why _I train you so hard?"

Harry's eyes widened, and he shivered under the sheer power of Draco's fury. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't bring himself to speak, so all he did was shake his head.

Draco let out a growl. "You've _seen_. You've met a demon face to face. Do you really think that they're prone to fighting _fair?_ Do you think that they'd hesitate for _an instant_ before killing you—No, worse, dragging you to Hell? I've been trying to keep you alive, you _ingrate!"_

Harry felt guilt coil in his stomach as he realized just how wrong he'd been. If Draco had had any control of the demon in the Asylum, surely it wouldn't have tried to pull Harry into Hell with it. Besides, while Draco was certainly more violent than Harry would have liked, the demon in the Asylum had proven without a doubt that Harry _needed _harsh training, if those were the sorts of creatures he was meant to face. Red-faced and ashamed, Harry opened his mouth to apologize, only to be interrupted by a hand grabbing him by the back of the collar and hauling him roughly to his feet.

"Mr. Potter. Skipping class, are we?" Snape's voice came from behind Harry, and Harry immediately paled. "Tell me, do you plan on explaining to the police why you ran from a crime scene?"

Harry felt anger overtake him like a wave and only barely managed to suppress it. "I didn't do anything wrong, _sir. _I just needed some air after seeing…_that,"_ he couldn't suppress a shiver as the image of Cassandra laying dead in a puddle of blood once again came to the forefront of his mind, and he hoped that it made Snape more likely to believe him.

The older man seemed skeptical. "I don't know what you're up to, Mr. Potter, but rest assured that I will find out. Now, get back to class."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, not needing to be told twice. Upon entering the building, he realized that it was even more chaotic than when he'd left it. Teachers were still working to force students back into their classrooms while blocking the entrance to the restroom off. Amidst the crowd, Harry thought he saw McGonagall and Lockhart escorting a very pale Ginny Weasley to Principal Dumbledore's office.

Shivering and trying to ignore his growing headache, Harry walked back to class, sliding into the chair next to Ron, who had his head hidden in his arms. Remus gave him a searching look, but didn't ask any questions, much to Harry's relief. The other students were too engrossed in conjecture to spare him a second glance. He didn't want to bother Ron, who was clearly upset, so he occupied his nervous energy by looking around the room.

Draco was nowhere to be found, and he didn't appear again even after Principal Dumbledore's voice came over the loudspeaker an hour later declaring that school would be canceled for the next three days as the police investigated Cassandra's death. They were dismissed not long after, and Harry didn't even get a chance to talk to Ron, who ran off toward the principal's office immediately. Harry was about to follow him, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, I'd like to drive you home, if that's all right?" Remus asked, looking even more exhausted than usual.

Harry wished he could say no and be by Ron's side, but that wasn't an option. He didn't even want to imagine what Ginny was going through. She was tough, but that sight would have been enough to traumatize just about anyone. "What is it?" He asked once they were in the car, trying not to sound bitter.

Remus sighed. "You ran off before I could finish speaking with you, Harry."

"I think a dead body's a bit more important than that, don't you think?"

"Harry, I know you ran out of the building after seeing the crime scene. Severus told me, and I sent him to fetch you while I watched the class. I wanted to make sure you were all right," Remus said, watching Harry closely.

Harry tensed. "You sent _Snape_ after me?"

"He had a free period, so he didn't have any students to watch," Remus explained. "I know you don't like him, Harry, but I couldn't very well let you wander around freely when there was a murder investigation going on. I doubt your mother would ever forgive me if you became a suspect, somehow."

"Oh, well that's great. Does Sirius know you're so buddy-buddy with _Severus?"_ Harry asked, wrinkling his nose at the name and trying to steer the conversation as far from him as possible.

It didn't work. "We work together, Harry. It would hardly be professional of me to call him 'Snivellus' as your father and Sirius do. Now, do you want to talk about why you ran away, or not?"

"I just saw a dead body, okay? I needed some air."

"Harry, I think we both know that there's more to it than that," Remus insisted.

Harry was getting impatient. "Like what, Remus?"

"That's what I'm asking you, Harry, though it seems you're determined not to talk to me," Remus sighed. "You know I'll have to talk to your parents about this. They'll want to know about the bruises, too, I'm sure."

"You can't tell them that," Harry said, stiffening considerably. "Please, Remus."

Remus sighed. "You're asking me to lie to two of my closest friends. You could be in serious trouble, Harry, and they'd never know."

"I'm not! Look, I just…I got into a fight with some jerk on my way back from Ron's house. I didn't want them to worry. I promise it won't happen again," Harry pleaded. "_Please _don't tell them."

"I don't know, Harry—" Remus began skeptically, only to be cut off.

"Please!"

Remus sighed. "Fine. But I will be watching, you, Harry. If this behavior continues—"

"It won't," Harry assured him, even as he knew it was a lie. He would just have to get better at hiding it.

Remus looked like he wanted to argue, but they reached Harry's house, then, and the teenager jumped out of the car and bolted for the door, running past a very concerned Lily Potter. Just as Harry opened the door to his room, he heard Remus's voice saying, "He just needs some space." Silently thanking his English teacher, Harry opened the door to his room to find Draco sitting on the windowsill, a blank expression on his face as he stared out into the world.

Harry closed the door quietly behind him. Swallowing his pride, he decided that he owed Draco an apology, but all he could get out was, "Hey."

"Hey," Draco drawled lazily, not even bothering to face Harry.

"Look, Draco, I was a bit of a prat—"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I was an enormous prat, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I know you're just trying to help, in your own obnoxious way," Harry finished, rubbing at the back of his neck as he waited for Draco's response.

He didn't have to wait long, as Draco rolled his eyes and turned to face Harry immediately. "You're rubbish at apologies, too. Honestly, Potter, I don't know how you've survived this long without me."

"Just fine, actually. I didn't have any temperamental Angels to worry about," Harry replied, grinning. If Draco was taking the time to tease him, then he knew he was forgiven.

Draco smirked. "Pity. Though I suppose you have been handling this all rather better than I expected. Most people would have been reduced to a useless pile of flesh. At least you have spirit."

"Did you just…_compliment _me?" Harry asked, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Close your mouth Potter, or your face will get stuck like that," Draco scolded lightly, mouth twitching up at the corners.

Harry laughed, feeling much lighter than he'd felt just moments before. "So you can be nice. Who knew?"

"I'm an Angel, Potter. Besides, I was simply giving credit where credit was due."

"Whatever," Harry replied, taking a page out of Draco's book and rolling his eyes.

The moment didn't last long, however, Draco's face becoming deadly serious. "We do have a problem, though, Potter."

Those words brought Harry back to Earth, and he mentally slapped himself for acting so happy when a classmate of his had just been killed. He didn't know what had gotten into him. "Right. So, what's the plan? Are we going to sneak into the school?"

"I don't see how that will do any good, seeing as the demon's no longer there," Draco sighed.

"What? How did that happen?"

Draco stretched his arms above his head and looked Harry directly in the eyes. "That's what I was trying to find out while you were in class. I looked everywhere for the damned thing."

"Then where did it go?" Harry asked, panicking at the thought of a demon loose in the city.

"I'm not sure, but I think it must have taken a host. That would be the easiest way for it to disappear as quickly as it did."

"Wait, a host? Like a possession?" Harry was becoming more and more worried by the second.

Draco nodded. "Exactly. Normally, I'd still be able to track it, but…" he gestured bitterly toward his wings, which were barely even there anymore.

"Then what are we going to do?" Harry demanded to know.

"Research," Draco sighed. "A lot of it."

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Also, I've basically given up keeping a specific schedule for this fic, so I'll just update as often as possible. If I ever take longer than two weeks, though, feel free to yell at me in my inbox! Please review, as the story's about to enter into "No turning back" territory, and I'd like to know if people are interested. So, question: What are your favorite kinds of chapters? Do you prefer action-packed fighting chapters, light-hearted filler chapters, suspicious friends and family chapters, or Draco and Harry making out in an abandoned classroom chapters? Tell me in the reviews! **** Thanks for all the support guys! I love you!**


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